


The Tale of the Flowers in a Heart

by dai_naning



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Folk Tale, Hanahaki but with a twist, I think there's Fluff, If you figure out the truth before the reveal you deserve a medal, M/M, angst with happy ending, have fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dai_naning/pseuds/dai_naning
Summary: This is a tale of a man named Suna Rintarou with flowers growing in his heart and his wager with a kitsune named Osamu.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 30
Kudos: 124
Collections: SunaOsa





	1. Chapter 1

Long ago, in a time when cities were still villages and kept close to the forests, there is a forgotten tale of a man and a kitsune’s wager. Strange happenstances which language of the present age defines as ‘magic’, caused the man’s heart in declining health. As doctors and medical professionals were of high value, this man consults a shaman instead.

The man is named Suna Rintarou. Unlike the others in his village, he was not named for a special reason. His mother simply liked the way Rintarou rolls from one’s lips and promptly writes it down on his certificate. Dismissing the opinions of the midwife who helped deliver Suna to name him of characters that can write his destiny, his mother kept the preferred name.

Across him is the shaman who is named Sakusa Kiyoomi. Suna thinks the name is fitting as the man works with elements that are not of this world. The man prefers to keep to himself and finding an audience with him almost took Suna a whole week to accomplish.

The shaman presses a hand on his chest, over his heart, coal eyes squinting in concentration. He tells Suna to breathe as he normally would and after fifteen heartbeats he lowers his hand.

“Your heart,” Sakusa says, settling back on the other side of the low table, “has flowers growing out of its crevices.”

Suna stares at him blankly. “What?”

“Flowers are growing in your heart,” Sakusa repeats. “I felt the life of the forest growing around it. If this continues, your heart will cease its function as it no longer has space to continue beating.”

“Is there a way to take them out?” Suna asks. “Can you not ask the gods for help?”

Sakusa gives him a look. “I am not a priestess, I’m a shaman. I work with spirits and beings from the other side. I cannot ask the gods for help. You are better asking the temple for assistance.”

Suna wrings his hands. “I cannot… They do not offer help to those alike my preferences.”

“Oh? Are you not religious? If you ask for repentance only this once, they will help. Surely, servants of the gods do not wish to withheld help from their gods’ subjects.”

“It is not that.” Suna attempts to hide his scarlet face by looking away to the side. “I prefer men over women.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence descends over the two. Suna’s preference for men over women had been a piece of public information in their little village when Suna was caught with a passing lover. He wonders if the reason the shaman does not know is because of his tendency to keep to himself. After a few beats, Suna takes a peek at the shaman. Sakusa does not look disgusted or disturbed but rather thoughtful. Suna slowly releases a relieved sigh. 

“I might know of someone who could offer you help,” Sakusa speaks slowly as if the thought might scare Suna. “Well, you might consider him as _something_.”

“Who is it? Is it not… human?”

“He is not human, yes, but he is known to be generous.” Sakusa looks resigned. “For a price of course.”

“A price?”

“Yes, he seeks… enjoyment,” Sakusa says, folding his hands over his lap. “He has been knocking on my door for sources of entertainment. This might work in your favor. But.”

“But?”

Sakusa hesitates and something like concern tints his tone. “You must think of it carefully. He does not hesitate in his games and he will take everything once you lose. It might even be your life.”

A bit of fear trickles down Suna’s spine. Sakusa looks serious, eyes telling him the possibility of danger if he pursues this _someone’s_ help. 

“Consider it carefully, Suna Rintarou,” Sakusa advises, “and only then shall I tell you the directions to his home.”

* * *

Suna takes the shaman’s advice to heart. He mulls the possible dangers of asking for help from a nonhuman. The stories of the others who had their limbs torn or their fate steered towards destitute concerns him. It is simply foolish to have contact with nonhumans let alone conduct business with them.

However, could his life truly be any darker than this? He cannot take a lover as the village frowns upon two men in love. If not for his excellent skills in craftsmanship he would starve from the loss of business after his sexuality was revealed. The villagers avoid him like plague and loneliness caused Suna’s heart to build walls.

_Maybe the flowers are my heart’s walls_ , Suna thinks.

What does he have to lose more? Or rather, does he have anything to lose at all?

Suna presses a hand over his chest, feeling the weakened pulse. He heaves a heavy sigh and leans against the wall outside of his home. Who is he pretending to? He already has his mind made.

* * *

A week after finds Suna climbing up the mountain behind Sakusa’s home. The shaman had him wear an amulet that will prevent him from getting lost in the forest. The forest, he warns, likes to take prisoners. The warning does not help Suna in any way.

Birds and random animals make sounds around him as he walks. Suna thinks they might be following him but he tells himself that it must be his imagination. Even if they are wild, animals will still fear humans. Unless they are predators, which Sakusa assures him are not present in the mountain.

It might be his imagination too that the branches seem to move out of the way. Suna ignores the goosebumps that rise all over his skin as he sees something rush past him in a blur. He pauses, takes a deep breath, and continues on.

When he reaches a clearing, a miniature shrine stands on top of a stone dais. It reaches only to his waist. Suna steps close to the shrine, crouching down to inspect the tiny details. He lightly runs his hands over the dents of the paper windows and the columns of the small shrine.

When he touches the back, he feels a set of ridges that seems purposeful. With concentration, he runs his hands over the ridges once more. He recognizes it to be an insignia. Intrigued, he tries to determine which insignia. As he presses his fingertips against the ridges, he feels a nagging thought surfacing from the back of his mind.

“I think it is foolish to touch things in the forest without caution,” a voice speaks behind him, amused. “Though I should have expected it from the nature of humans.”

Suna stands up before turning around. Before even seeing the man he knows he is not human. The forest has gone silent around them, the birds no longer chirping and the leaves no longer swaying along with the wind. 

The man seems to be around his age. His hair is dark grey like his hooded eyes, staring intently despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor. His attire reminds Suna of the sokutai that only the nobles wear with how intricate it looks. Suna had never seen one but maybe it would look like this. His robes are pure black with red details lining hems and the front folds. The man looks regal and sure of himself as he stares back at Suna.

Suna watches as the man tilts his head to look at the shrine behind him. “I see. Are you here for a request?”

Suna straightens. “Yes. I am.”

“And may I ask what aid you need from me?”

“Flowers,” Suna answers, looking down to avoid the unwavering stare of the man. “There are flowers in my heart. They have caused my heartbeat to slow and thus the decline in my health. I would like your help in removing them.”

“Do not hide your eyes, it’s rude.”

Suna startles and quickly complies, meeting the man’s grey eyes once more. He holds his breath as the man moves close, steps silent despite the heavy-looking sandals on his feet. Like Sakusa, the man presses a hand on Suna’s chest. After a few heartbeats, he looks up but makes no move to step away.

Panic grows slowly in his throat as he watches the man’s nails turn to claws. With a slight upturn of his lips, the man regards him.

“You may call me Osamu.” He does not remove his hand. “May I ask of your name?”

“Suna,” Suna answers, voice a bit tight in his throat. 

“I have told you my given name, it is only fair for you to do the same.”

“Rintarou. Suna Rintarou.”

"They say love makes flowers bloom," Osamu says, tracing a pattern on Suna's chest with his sharp claws. "I didn't know it can make a garden in a human's ribs and cause destruction with its beauty."

Suna grabs his hand to halt him. The kitsune's claws retract. He mentally thanks whatever god is up there that he did not cut Suna. "You speak of riddles. Tell me, can you do it? Can you unroot them?"

The kitsune steps back. His grey eyes glow like moonlight. "Of course, for a fee. Are you prepared to pay, Suna Rintarou?"

Suna thinks of the garden in his chest, planting roots in the ridges of his heart. Like a cage, its thorns surround the organ and pulses in time with his heart.

"A wager." The shaman had advised him to never pay but to play with odds. "I want to play a game."

Osamu steps close again, canines glinting. "A wager, hm? Then Suna Rintarou, are you prepared to play a game of memories?"

Suna tells himself it's wiser to play along with the kitsune than to pay. "Can you assure my life to be mine to keep?"

Lazily, Osamu circles him. "Smart man. Your life is in your hands, Suna, I will not dare to touch it. Will you play?"

"Yes, I'll play."

Osamu stops behind him, lightly resting his arms on Suna's shoulders. Suna forces himself to not stiffen when Osamu leans in close.

"Then," Osamu whispers, "let's see if you can play to the end, hm?"

* * *

“A game of memories?” Sakusa asks, frowning. Suna mumbles his gratitude as Sakusa pours him a cup of tea. “Did he tell you the rules?”

Suna takes a sip of the tea. Chamomile. He sets it down, licking his lips nervously. “I put my memories at stake. He told me to tell him what caused the change in the forest. I have one week to determine the answer.”

Sakusa’s brows knit together in thought. “Did he speak of anything else?”

“He says I am free to roam the entirety of the forest as long as I am with him,” Suna replies. “I do not know what for, only that it’s for the sake of my safety.”

“What for? There are no predators in that forest.”

Suns shrugs. “I told him as such. He insists and tells me it’s part of his condition. I had no choice but to agree.”

Sakusa drums his fingers on the table, lost in thought. Suna decides to finish his tea, letting the warm liquid relax his throat. The event earlier replays on his mind. The man is a kitsune, at least according to what Sakusa told him. Suna does not doubt him because there is no other reason for someone to look as otherworldly as Osamu had.

“This is strange,” Sakusa mutters, lost in thought. “Atsumu never plays such strange games.”

Suna looks up. “Atsumu? He told me his name is Osamu.”

The drumming stops. Sakusa stares at him, bewildered. “What?”

“The kitsune introduced himself as Osamu,” Suna says. “Is that not who I should meet?”

Sakusa hastily stands up, rummaging around for an outer coat to meet the cold. Suna watches him as he wears an amulet like the one he gave Suna earlier. Sakusa looks furious and he’s curious as to what the cause might be.

“Is everything all right, Sakusa-san?”

Sakusa points at him sternly. “No. I will fix this. Stay here tonight, there is a spare bedroom next to mine. Do not step out of the house. I mean this, Suna-san.”

A bit concerned, Suna nods his understanding. He watches as Sakusa rushes out of the house with a lamp. He hopes the shaman will be alright.

* * *

Sakusa rushes up the mountain, the lamp lighting up in the dark. He bends down to ask the animals for guidance but he finds that there is no need. The kitsune finds him first.

The kitsune’s eyes glow gold like the fire in Sakusa’s lamp. His white kimono looks orange with the lamp’s glow. As it is night, his nine tails are out in display behind him like a large fan. His fox ears twitch above his head. Sitting on a sturdy branch of an old tree, Atsumu looks down amusedly at Sakusa.

"Omi, are ya here to visit me?" Atsumu asks, legs swinging on a tree branch. "I knew ya would come around."

The shaman scowls up at him. "Your brother. Tell him to break his game with his new plaything. I did not send him for Osamu."

Atsumu hums, considering. "Osamu took someone you sent for me? That is rather strange.”

“Is it really strange with the nature of your brother?”

The kitsune laughs. “That is true. I might help you then, Omi. Do you know their name?"

"Suna. Suna Rintarou."

Atsumu's legs stop swinging. Sakusa watches as Atsumu’s brows furrow in thought as he thinks the name over. Then, he laughs, clutching the branch for support.

Sakusa narrows his eyes. "What is it you're hiding?"

"Nothing," Atsumu says next to his ear. Sakusa resists flinching. The kitsune always liked to take Sakusa by surprise. "It is not me who hides a truth but my brother."

"What is it? Can the game be stopped?"

Atsumu reappears on top of the branch before Sakusa can hit him, golden eyes glinting down on Sakusa. "You are aware that Osamu is the kinder twin. Will it not be better for this human to play the game with him?"

"Yet I know you are more generous than he."

Atsumu smiles. "You flatter me but no, I cannot help you with this."

"Why? Does Osamu lack entertainment so much he won't stop a game he has nothing to lose?"

"Oh, he has already lost, Omi," Atsumu says, tone hinting to a mirthful secret. "Always has, since the beginning. This is a game he cannot afford to abandon, you see. Once Osamu tastes it, he hungers for it until he can take it whole."

"Suna Rintarou," Atsumu says, no, declares, "is Osamu's true hunger."

“That is not enough reason,” Sakusa argues. “I’m aware of his hunger, Atsumu. This man… I do not want him to be harmed.”

Atsumu’s golden eyes seem to darken. He jumps down and lands on his feet, quickly pushing his face close to Sakusa. “Oh, this is unexpected. Are you fond of this man, Omi?” Atsumu’s hooded eyes blink slowly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt jealousy.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes and pushes the kitsune away. Atsumu lets himself be pushed until there is a distance of a step between them.

“This man, he has nothing more to lose,” Sakusa says. “He has lost everything: his status in the village, his family, and now his heart. If he loses to Osamu, he will lose his life as well.”

Sakusa did his own investigation about Suna. It wasn’t a difficult task to do when the villagers were eager to badmouth the man. Suna used to belong to a family of four before a landslide during a trek to the mountain left Suna as the only survivor. Some horrible villagers even hinted he should have joined them.

It was one of the only times Sakusa felt his blood simmer due to rage.

“Is that so?” Atsumu hums thoughtfully. “It is rare for you to be sympathetic to others.”

“Are you telling me I’m incapable of kindness?”

“Of course not,” Atsumu says, “it’s just. This man, does he not sound like he someone who did something wrong? Can you tell me why he is ostracized?”

“It is the same reason as mine.”

Atsumu cuts him a glance. “I see. You are concerned he will end up like you.”

Sakusa looks away which is admission enough for Atsumu. The kitsune sighs and thinks of a younger Sakusa with haunted eyes and sunken cheeks. Similar humans really do have the tendency to flock together.

“As much as I would like to promise you my help, I cannot help you Omi,” Atsumu says, apology genuine. “I cannot take this away from ‘Samu, you see. This is ‘Samu’s and ‘Samu’s only game alone.”

“Will you promise me he will not be harmed then?” 

Atsumu’s smile is rueful. “Osamu will not harm him. Not in the way you think, no.”

* * *

Suna finds himself fussed over by Sakusa the next day. Sakusa makes him wear the amulet again and pins a flower to his kimono with a needle. He tells Suna again and again that if Osamu tries anything, he should scream for Atsumu. After Suna’s nth agreement, he sends Suna off with a satchel containing packed food.

The trek up the mountain seems faster than last time. The forest almost seems welcoming as the branches move away to let him in deeper. When he looks back, they fall back into place. Suna reassures himself that he is not a prisoner of the forest. Sakusa had promised him safety.

When he reaches the miniature shrine, Osamu is there waiting with his hands behind his back. Suna slowly approaches him, hands tightening on the straps of the satchel.

Amused, Osamu taps a finger on the amulet. “Tell Sakusa you do not need this. Well, neither of you need it, anyway.”

“You know Sakusa?”

“Do I not know him,” Osamu mutters under his breath. In a louder voice, he says, “Well then, Suna Rintarou. Where do you want to find the answer?”

Suna looks around. Endless trees surround them. “I do not know. Can you not give me a hint?”

“A hint,” Osamu considers this. “I can give you one, but there is a payment of course.” At Suna’s frown, he chuckles. “Nothing extreme, just a simple act.”

Dubious, Suna decides to try. “What is it?”

Grinning, Osamu taps a hand to his cheek. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Is it not obvious? I want a kiss.”

Osamu’s blunt answer brings heat to Suna’s own cheeks. The kitsune stares at him, head tilted towards him expectantly. 

“Why- Why would you ask for one?” Suna asks, voice weak. “You are aware I am the same sex as you, are you not?”

“We are not confined to the same social culture you humans have,” Osamu answers wryly.

“What do you even gain from this?”

Osamu steps close to him. “You’re asking too many questions. Do you want a hint or not?”

Suna wants to protest but thinks it over. On one hand, it’s a simple act and completely harmless. But his embarrassment prevents him from thinking of it as such. He eyes Osamu warily before stepping close to the kitsune.

“Just one.”

“If you would like to give me more than one, I would not complain.”

Suna narrows his eyes as Osamu turns his cheek towards him. Before Suna overthinks it, he steps close and presses a light peck on Osamu’s cheek. He feels warmth burst on his lips and quickly pulls back, bringing his hands up to cover his cheeks. He groans and crouches down, counting numbers under his breath.

Above him, Osamu watches as he tries not to burst into flames. “Get up, Rintarou. Or do you want to stay here until midnight?”

Slowly, Suna stands up. A light pink still dust his cheeks. “I know our social culture does not apply to you but should you really address me with my given name?”

Osamu starts to walk towards a path that opens itself as the branches move away. Suna falls into step next to him, sneaking a glance at the kitsune. As expected, the kitsune is not affected by the kiss. 

“Why should I not call you by your name?”

“We are not of close acquaintances.”

“What constitutes as one?”

Suna hesitates. “Well, there is family, of course. And then there are those who have been friends for a long time. Of course, there are also lovers who like to have the privilege of calling each other their given names as a form of intimacy.”

“In that case, do I not fall under the last category?”

“What do you mean?”

Osamu raises a brow. “You’ve given me a kiss, is that not what lovers do?”

Spluttering, Suna shakes his head. “That only happened because you asked me for it! It does not count.”

“What will make it count then?”

“Well, lovers are people who proclaimed their love to each other,” Suna answers slowly. “They kiss to show their affection towards each other.”

“Strange, the human who taught me of kisses did not mention that,” Osamu comments, a branch ducking out of his way. Suna watches the branch for a few seconds before looking forward again. “He only mentioned how it can be an act of reward.”

“Well, it can be that too.” A human? “Do you know any human besides Sakusa?”

“Yes, you.”

Suna gives him a look. “I mean besides us.”

“We’re here.”

Osamu stops in front of a curtain of leaves. With a flick of his hand, the leaves part to the sides to reveal the mouth of a cave. The kitsune gestures for him to enter first, stepping in behind Suna as the leaves fall back into place.

The walls of the cave have numerous drawings, most of them clearly not the work of a professional. They are also drawn at the height of Suna’s waist and nothing past that. Suna crouches down to inspect them closer, running a hand over the drawings. 

The drawings are drawn using colorful chalk. Trees, flowers, and stick figures. Several different hands must have drawn them because some of the lines are wobbly while some are clearer. Suna traces all of them, endeared. As he moves from one end to another, his foot makes something roll away. A stub of chalk.

He looks up to Osamu, a hand held out to the chalk in question.

Osamu’s lips twitch to a half-smile. “Feel free to add more, Rintarou.”

Suna picks up the chalk and rolls it over his hands in thought. He decides to sit down properly to relieve his knees. “Is this the hint?”

“I brought you here, did I not?”

Suna rolls his eyes and starts to draw a flower on the cave wall. “I must say, I’ve never heard of chalk being found in our village, never mind up here in the mountain.”

“The human who brought those,” Osamu says, leaning down to pick up a piece of chalk, “is a sweet talker. He managed to ask a traveling caravan for some of these as a gift. He says the walls should not remain bare.”

Is it the same human? “You sound fond of him.”

“I am,” Osamu confirms, sitting down next to him. He starts drawing a vague shape. “I think he is the only human I have ever been fond of.”

Suna sets down the chalk, frowning at the flower he drew that looked like it wilted. He sneaks a glance at what Osamu draws and he stares disbelieving at the better-looking flower. 

“Did you use your power to draw well?” Suna asks, a bit petulant.

Osamu sets down the chalk and turns to look at Suna’s flower. Suna resists covering his drawing, that would be too childish. “No, I’ve had much time to practice. Your flower… it does not look well.”

Suna tells himself erasing it would be admitting defeat. “Did you bring me here to ridicule me?”

The kitsune stands, dusting his kimono free of dust. “Of course not. I simply brought you here for the hint though,” he looks at Suna’s drawing again, lips pulled to a proper grin, “this is a treat.”

Suna’s ridiculous attempt of a flower fits in well with the other childish drawings and stick figures. He wonders if he really is a craftsman.

Suna stands, golden eyes squinting at the mischievous kitsune. “You’re having fun.”

“I am.”

“There’s nothing else in here, is there?”

Osamu looks around the small, cramped cave. “Unless you have something else I’m not seeing, no.”

“How long do I have before I need to leave?”

“What do you mean?”

Suna gestures around. “Do I not have a time limit each time I visit?”

“Unless you wish, you can stay here for as long as you like,” Osamu says. “I will need to escort you, of course, it is dangerous after all.”

Pulling the curtain of leaves to the side, Suna exits the cave. “I still don’t understand what you meant by that. Sakusa-san said there are no predators in the mountain. Who else would try to eat me?”

“You don’t need predators to be eaten alive in a mountain,” Osamu says, matter-of-fact. “Especially in a mountain of kitsunes.”

“Should I be wary of you then?”

“Are you already not?”

Suna pauses, thinking this over. He thinks of the easy banter he makes with the kitsune and the fact that he felt no danger from him. Osamu is relaxed and almost seems harmless if not for the fact he’s not human. He almost feels like an old friend Suna reconnected with. 

Or maybe his loneliness is worse than he thought.

Osamu brings him out of his thoughts. “Are you eating your lunch here?”

The kitsune is looking pointedly at his satchel. Oh, the packed lunch Sakusa made for him. Suna looks around and finds a smooth large stone to sit on. “I am. Sakusa made me stay with him until my game with you is finished. I don’t want to intrude more than I am so I asked if I can stay here to have my lunch. My dinners will be spent with him, though.”

Osamu sits next to him, folding his hands over his lap. He peers at the lunchbox curiously. “Hm. Atsumu will surely sulk about that.”

“Sakusa-san said I should look for him if you do something to me.”

The kitsune looks offended. “I’d understand if it was someone else but why my brother of all people?”

“You’re brothers?”

“We were born at the same time,” Osamu says as Suna picks up a piece of meat. “Though he claims he is older than I am by a few minutes. He likes to use this against me during arguments, only claiming his older brother status whenever it benefits him.”

Suna snorts. “He sounds amusing.”

“He is, though I would appreciate it if he would not make his jokes about me.” Osamu looks down at the lunchbox and points at an onigiri. “What is this? I have not seen it before.”

“That’s an onigiri,” Suna replies, picking up the triangle-shaped rice meal. “Sakusa-san likes shaping it into triangles and putting faces made out of nori on them. See?”

Suna holds out the onigiri with two dots and a curved strip of nori above the nori on the bottom. It looks like a smiling man wearing a diaper. Suna had found it the most amusing to see the rather stoic man concentrating hard on cutting the details. The shaman even arranged the meat into a smile on top of the rice.

The kitsune accepts it before turning it around on his fingers. “Hm. Sakusa is a rather surprising man. I’ve never imagined him to be… childish? It seems ‘Tsumu has weird tastes.”

Chewing the food on his mouth, Suna says, “You can eat it if you want. I still have more ‘cause Sakusa-san packed me a lot of food.”

Osamu hesitantly takes a bite out of it. They sit side by side in silence as they both finish their food. As Suna replaces the lid back, Osamu is licking his fingers clean.

“Was it good?” Suna asks as he puts the lunchbox back into the satchel. “Did you like it?”

The kitsune nods. “Sakusa-san has peculiar habits but his cooking is excellent. I should have ‘Tsumu ask him for more of these. Or better, teach me how to make it.”

“I’m glad you like it then,” Suna says, shouldering the satchel. “I have to go back now, it’s almost time for dinner.”

“Very well.” The kitsune stands and leads him back to the miniature shrine. On the way, the branches part for them once again. Suna notes how even the path seems to appear just for them. 

When they reach the miniature shrine, Osamu turns to him. “Well? Do you have a guess on what changed in the forest?”

“I thought my answer is due at the end of the week?”

“Your last chance to answer is at the end of the week,” Osamu clarifies. “In the days before that, you can attempt to guess an answer each day. If you fail to answer before then, well. You already know what happens.”

Suna bites his lip, suddenly remembering the situation they are in. The relaxed company and day made him forget the true reason he sought the kitsune. He should not have forgotten. Maybe this is the way the forest takes in prisoners? Making them forget what they came here for in the first place?

“Do you not have a guess?” Osamu asks, patient as ever.

“Is it the cave? The drawings surely are not natural.”

“They are not but they have remained unchanged for years,” Osamu refutes, shaking his head. “It is not the answer.”

With a heavy sigh, Suna nods in acceptance. “Okay, I’ll just have to try again. Do you still need to accompany me on my way down?”

The kitsune looks past Suna’s shoulder. He steps away as if in farewell. “There is no need. Sakusa is waiting for you at the foot of the mountain. Your amulet will also prevent the forest from playing tricks on you.”

So he was right then. “I see. I’ll be taking my leave now then.”

Osamu lifts a hand to wave him off. “Good night, Rintarou. Come try again tomorrow.”

Suna returns the gesture before setting off. The branches close behind him until Osamu is no longer in sight. When Sakusa sees him, the shaman fusses over him and makes sure all his limbs are intact. Suna laughs his exaggeration off.

* * *

The second day, Suna’s lunchbox is heavier. Sakusa does not question him as he meekly requests for more onigiri. Sakusa hands him the key to the house and tells him to let himself in as he has a job that would take all day.

Last night, Suna helps Sakusa as he sets up the spare bedroom. Sakusa must make quite a fortune being a shaman as the pillows were stuffed with feathers and not rice. Suna had only managed to buy himself one after saving up for two years.

The shaman also offered him the use of his bathroom. Suna spent his bath thinking about the day’s events carefully. When he recounts the innocent kiss, he lowers himself to the water to cool his cheeks. He only resurfaced when he almost lost his breath.

Like yesterday, Osamu waits for him at the clearing. This time, Suna catches him running a hand over the shrine. Almost reverently, the kitsune pats the roof. Clearing his throat, Suna steps into the clearing. Osamu’s hand pulls away to fold against his back.

“Good morning, Rintarou,” Osamu greets. “Where would you like to go today?”

Suna gives him an unimpressed look. “You and I both know I have no idea where. Tell me a hint and the payment you want.”

“You’re urgent today,” Osamu comments, but complies. “On our way to your hint, I want you to hold my hand.”

Did Suna mishear him? “You want to hold… hands.”

“Yes.”

Suna squints at him. “That’s the payment you want?”

“Why, is it inappropriate for me to ask to hold your hand? As far as I know, it’s not scandalous, even in your social culture.”

“It’s not but,” Suna hesitates, “what do you benefit from holding my hand?”

Osamu regards him. “Yesterday as well, you ask multiple questions. Is this human nature or just a part of your character?”

Scowling, Suna holds out his hand. Osamu does not smirk but Suna can tell he’s triumphant. As Osamu wraps his hands around Suna’s, he feels warmth from the tips of the kitsune’s hand to the wide palm. The kitsune’s hands are smooth like silk and Suna wonders if he regrets asking this for payment with how rough Suna’s hands are from working with wood and other mediums.

The trees part to create a path, guiding them through the forest. Suna watches the trees and notes the small strips of cloth tied to branches and roots of some. When he sees them for the fifth time, he turns to Osamu.

“Are you making the trees guide us around in a circle?” Suna demands.

The kitsune is unapologetic. “Oh, you noticed? I’m glad to learn your eyes are sharper than yesterday.”

“You did this yesterday as well?”

“What can I say?” Osamu eyes him mischievously. “It was pure enjoyment in seeing your apple red cheeks for a long time.”

Suna huffs and looks away. He hears Osamu chuckle lowly and resists stomping on his feet to make him stumble. 

The branches part to reveal a large boulder in the middle of a clearing. A large chunk at the side of it is curved and despite the jagged corners, Suna feels as if it was meant to be a seat. The boulder is twice as tall as Suna, looming over a small grassy hill. Wildflowers grow along with the grass, short and like white dots of snow. 

Suna steps forward before almost stumbling. He follows his hand and remembers the payment.

Osamu looks at him, a brow raised. “Did my hands feel that natural that you forgot them?”

“What about you? Are you that eager to hold my hand that you didn’t let go?”

“Why should I let go? I’m the one who asked for it, clearly, I wanted it.”

Suna sighs. “Will you please let go of my hand?”

Osamu releases him and trails after Suna as he makes his way to the chipped side of the boulder. The kitsune watches as Suna wedges himself between the jagged sides and sits down. He follows his line of sight to the view that overlooks a lower part of the mountain. 

Following his example, Osamu sits down on the space between the jagged sides. They sit together in silence as Suna runs a hand over the sharp edges.

“Are you not afraid you will cut yourself?” Osamu asks without looking over. “If you even bleed a drop of blood, Sakusa will have my head.”

Suna drops his hand to his lap. “How curious. The kitsune is scared of a mere human?”

“Is it foolish not to?” Osamu asks, leaning against the cold boulder. “Humans are capable of unimaginable destruction after all.”

Suna thinks of the sieges and the fires the traveling caravans speak of from the capital. They speak of horror as they recount tales of forests set ablaze for wars. 

“I guess you’re right.” Suna looks back to the view. He looks at the trees and the small animals that bound in sight. “Do you watch the sunrise here?”

“No, the sun rises on the other side,” Osamu says. “‘Tsumu and I watch the sun rise and set on top of another boulder on the other side of the mountain. It overlooks your village.”

“Then what is this chip in the boulder for? It’s not natural at all.”

“It’s not,” Osamu confirms. “My brother and I carved it with our own hands. A man also helped us with his axe. It was amusing to watch him struggle with the heavy weapon.”

“Your mockery surely is not appreciated by this man,” Suna says.

“Oh, of course not,” Osamu agrees, chuckling. “He would most likely glare at us and tell me and ‘Tsumu he would leave. It almost always worked with how much we hunger for the snacks his mother makes for him.”

“He sounds like a dear friend,” Suna observes. Osamu’s tone and eyes are wistful as he talks about this man.

“He is,” Osamu nods, “though he would most likely protest my agreement. Well, what is your guess for today, Rintarou?”

Suna looks forward once again. “Is it this boulder? You made the change yourself after all.” He does not feel disappointed at Osamu’s no. He expected as much. “Why?”

“Sooner or later, we would’ve destroyed this boulder ourselves,” Osamu says. “And this boulder’s change is not as large as to change the mountain’s nature.”

Suna perks up. A clue to the answer. Osamu does not acknowledge his slip-up though he seems aware of it. 

“Do you want to return home now?” Osamu asks after a moment of silence. “Sakusa is at the foot of the mountain already.”

Suna stands. “He seems to not trust you. Is there a particular reason why?”

“Well, any human who blindly trusts a kitsune is simply foolish,” Osamu says in reply, hands folded again on his back. “He is being cautious as he should.”

Suna does not find any reason to disagree. He follows Osamu just as the branches part away again.

* * *

The third and fourth days find Suna in front of two separate gardens. Carefully cultivated flowers bloom away from the looming trees and under the sun. The gentle breeze brings their sweet scents to Suna. Butterflies and bees flit around the gardens.

In the first garden, there is a small carving of a fox on the trunk of a large wisteria tree. Next to it, he finds a small stick figure. Suna crouches down to study it, fingers tracing the ridges. It appears to be made using a knife and quite clumsily too. Suna tells himself that not everyone is blessed to have stable hands like him.

In this garden, the flowers are color-coordinated. The blues go with the blues then next to it are the yellows and then the reds. Suna asks for permission to walk between the rows of flowers. With a nod, Osamu encourages him to do so.

They eat Sakusa’s prepared lunch under the wisteria tree, their kimonos folded beneath them carefully. Suna gives Osamu an onigiri and laughs at his grimace when he bites on the umeboshi. The shaman loves the sour fruit in everything.

“The carving,” Suna says. “It’s the change in this forest.”

Osamu continues eating. “Your guess is wrong.”

Suna sighs and sets his chopsticks down. “Does the forest not change constantly? Do flowers not wilt and do trees not grow taller than last year? Is the answer the forest itself?”

“It is not, otherwise you would have won the wager already.” Like yesterday, Osamu licks his fingers clean. He points up at the wisteria tree. “This tree, how long do you think this has been here?”

“A few years ago?”

“This tree has been here even before my brother and I made this mountain our home,” Osamu says, “it is as old as the mountain itself. Every year like the other trees, its leaves turn brown and return vibrant during spring. The animals in this forest die when they reach old age and their young ones live on for them. Every year this happens as well. However, it is not the change of the forest. It is simply its nature.”

“Then what answer are you looking for?” Suna asks. “If those changes are not the answer, what else changes apart from them?”

Lazily, Osamu lowers himself to lay flat on the grass. Closing his eyes, he says, “That is for you to find out.”

In the second garden, a swing made of a cracked wooden plank and frayed ropes sway gently with the breeze. When Suna inspects under the seat he finds nothing. He decides to sit down on it, half for fun and half for the belief that maybe the clue can be found if he performs what it’s for. As he swings, the wildflowers under him fly into the air as he kicks the ground. Startled, he looks over to Osamu who watches him from the other side of the tree.

The kitsune does not look mad but rather thoughtful as he watches the flowers drop down to the ground.

Suna halts his swing. “You look like you just learned something. Why are there flowers here anyway?” It’s an odd place to plant flowers. 

Osamu moves to stand next to him, crouching down to inspect the remaining flowers. “I was told to plant some flowers here. According to him, it would be a pleasant surprise if I did it. I didn’t bother asking why, he was always up to something.”

Tucking his feet close, Suna says, “Sorry, I destroyed the flowers then.”

Waving his concern away, Osamu stands up. “I think he intended to do this. He most likely wanted me to watch the flowers go up into the sky. He spoke of these events humans hold during times of harvest. What was it…”

“Festivals?” Suna suggested.

Osamu smiles down at him. “Yes, that. He told me it was for the gods and for beings such as myself. I’ve never heard of it before and wanted to spectate but it was dangerous for me to be surrounded by humans. They could find my true nature to be a threat.”

Suna looks him up and down. “You look human to me.”

This time, the kitsune’s smile seems to hide a secret. “Do I? Why do you think so?”

“Well, for one you don’t have the fabled nine tails,” Suna starts, counting it off with his fingers. “You don’t have fox ears and whiskers on your cheeks. You also don’t have a frightening face but rather a welcoming one.”

“You think my face is pleasant?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

Chuckling, Osamu stands behind the swing. “Is it wrong to want to be complimented?”

Suna feels hands on his back. “Are you going to push me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know, do I need to pay if I say yes?”

He doesn’t look back but he can tell Osamu is smiling. “No, this is freely offered. Now, do you want me to push you?”

Suna untucks his feet. “Yes, please.”

He hears Osamu laugh behind him as flowers fly up into the sky, Suna kicking the flowers with purpose. He goes down before the flowers return to the ground and Suna thinks the human is clever. As the flower flies up, the petals break away from the stem. For a replacement, the flowers are almost like fireworks.

When Osamu escorts him back to the clearing with the small shrine, Suna turns to him, expectant. The kitsune returns his look albeit a little confused, hands folded on his back again. 

“What payment do you want this time?” Suna asks, fixing the satchel on his shoulder. “Surely, the hints were not free. If I were to try to find them I would have failed.”

The kitsune blinks slowly before his eyes refocused. “Do you want to pay them now?”

“I’d rather finish them before tomorrow. You didn’t ask for the one yesterday so I’ll do them now before they pile up.”

Osamu mulls this over, eyes looking around before returning to Suna. “A gift. Something you created yourself.”

“A what?”

“You’re a craftsman, aren’t you?” Osamu asks. “Make me an accessory of your choosing. Something that is unique and unlike what you make for your customers.”

“That will take days.” His tools are back at his house and Sakusa had forbidden him to return as he now is more vulnerable to attacks from nonhuman beings. “It will not be finished quickly.”

“I can wait,” Osamu says. “As long as you deliver your payment.”

“What’s the other one? The payment for the second day?”

Osamu hums. “Bring tea tomorrow. Steep it yourself.”

That’s surprisingly easy. He says as much. Amused, Osamu asks him, “Why? Do you want me to make it difficult for you?”

“No,” Suna quickly shakes his head. “Please, don’t.”

The laugh Osamu lets out seems to echo around them. “Very well. Then, Suna Rintarou. What is your guess today?”

Suna thinks about it long and hard. It is not something natural like butterflies coming out of their cocoons. It should be an element out of the forest.

“Is it… is it me?” Suna asks.

The kitsune looks intrigued. “And why do you think that?”

“That is neither confirmation nor disproof.”

“And your answer is not clear enough as to why it is the change of the forest.”

Suna resists throttling the kitsune. “I don’t belong here. This is not my home but yours. You and your brother live here. I’m merely a visitor.”

“If that were the case, Sakusa would also be a change of the forest,” Osamu points out.

“So… it’s not me.”

Osamu shakes his head. “No, it is not you.”

Suna heaves a deep sigh. “Okay, I understand. I’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll have your accessory ready in a few days.”

The kitsune smiles, giving him a slight bow. “I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

“You need your tools?” Sakusa asks, hands pausing as they clean up their dinner. “Do you have a commission?”

Suna plays with the hem of his kimono. “No, it’s not for a customer.”

“Who else would it be for then?”

“It’s for… it’s for Osamu.”

The plates are brought down rather harshly. “For _who?_ ”

“Osamu,” Suna repeats weakly, “the kitsune.”

Sakusa narrows his eyes. “And why are you creating a gift for him?”

“It’s payment for his hint,” Suna says, a bit defensive. “I need the tools to make him an accessory.”

The shaman sits down again, dirty plates forgotten. “Has he been asking you for payment for these hints?”  
  


“Yes. They are simple such as bringing tea and holding his hand…”  
  


“A kitsune,” Sakusa says flatly, “asks to hold your hand?”

Suna blushes. “I don’t know why myself either. He asks for simple acts in exchange for big help, how could I refuse?”

“What does he gain from it?” Sakusa wonders aloud.

“I don’t know, I’ve asked him but he counters with another question,” Suna wrings his hands, “is that not natural?”

“For a kitsune who is known as the hunger of the two, yes. That is quite out of character.” Sakusa picks up the plates once again and dumps them on a basin. “Can you clean the dishes? I’ll pick up your tools.”

Suna rushes to stand up. “Wait no, let me come with you. I want to check my other works in progress as well.”

“Very well, I’ll wash the dishes with you then.” Sakusa hands him a plate as he starts on a bowl. “Now, tell me what that kitsune has done for the past days. I want every detail with no exceptions, Suna.”

As he recounts what happened for the past four days, Suna rushes over the embarrassing details. Sakusa gives him a look but lets him. The village is already asleep by the time they venture to Suna’s house.

Suna’s house is a shack compared to Sakusa’s tidy and spacious house. His spare room has been turned into a studio and random pieces of papers litter the floor. They toe their shoes off at the door and step inside. Suna lights up the lanterns to avoid stubbing their feet in the dark. 

He rummages through his cabinet containing his tools. He needs a block of wood as well for the base. Suna hovers over the gems on a pouch reserved for special clients. Should he bring this too?

Behind him, Sakusa picks up a notebook containing his notes of measurements. He idly flips through them. “Your designs are wonderful. Do you trade with the passing caravans?”

“I do. Sometimes they pay better than the villagers so I save some of my best for them. Well, it might be that they don’t know about my preference.”

The notebook is snapped shut. “I see. Do you have any plans of leaving this village then?”

Suna’s hands knock into something. He frowns as he picks it up, not recognizing the wooden figure. It’s the size of his palm, details obscure except for the protruding long shape on the back. He turns it over his hand as he tries to recall when he started this project. To his memory, there are no parents who commissioned toys from him. 

“Suna?”

He decides to pocket the figure. “Yes?”

“I asked if you have any plans of leaving this village?”

Suna pauses. “I’ve never thought of it, no.”

“Why not? With how the villagers treat you, I thought you would have already decided on it.”

“Well, where else would I go? I don’t have any money to buy a house anywhere else. There’s also the fact that there might not be enough customers in the new area.”

“The capital has a large population, I’m sure you’ll find one there.”

Suna turns around, incredulous. “The capital? Are you crazy? I'll get sacked there first thing as soon as I arrive!”

“Why?” Sakusa peels away from the wall and helps him carry some materials. “The capital is not as bad as the villagers make it out to be. Sometimes, they’re more tolerant. Your works are enough to earn you money to sustain yourself, Suna.”

Suna locks the door house as they leave, making sure the fires are out. “Well, I don’t know…”

“Think about it,” Sakusa advices. “You don’t need to make the decision now.”

“What about you, Sakusa-san?” Suna asks. “Are you going to stay here?”

“My family is from the capital so most likely yes,” Sakusa answers. “My father is actually an artisan and I’m well-versed in the art of calligraphy and opera. If I return, I can easily assume my abandoned job again.”

“Must be nice to have something to return to,” Suna comments.

Sakusa nods. “Yes, my father has been supportive of my endeavors. When I decided to follow my mother’s footsteps of being a shaman, he allowed it but insisted I learn art just in case. A shaman is not as sought-after as an artisan after all.”

“Why did you become a shaman?” Suna asks, curious. “Most people would be a priest or a worker of the temple.”

“My mother liked to help people,” Sakusa says. “She had a list of people she wanted to help that she did not finish due to her early passing from sickness. I wanted to finish it for her so her soul will be at rest in the other world.”

“And it brought you here?”

Sakusa nods, smiling faintly. “Yes, it brought me here.”

* * *

On the fifth day, Suna meets a stranger instead of Osamu at the small shrine. With hair the color of gold and mischievous eyes, the stranger waves energetically at him. Suna approaches him warily. He wears the same outfit as Osamu and shares the same face as the other kitsune. 

Ah, this must be Atsumu then.

“I wasn’t aware you and your brother liked to switch roles,” Suna says dryly. “Nor was I made aware with the change of escort.”

“Aw, do ya miss my brother that much?” Atsumu teases. “It hasn’t even been a day, Sunarin.”

Suna narrows his eyes. _Sunarin?_ “I thought your brother pushes social boundaries but it seems you push farther than he does.”

The kitsune laughs. “Ya can just say I’m rude, ya know. Well, ya ready to go to yer hint?”

“Do I have to give the payment to you?”

Atsumu makes a face. “Nah, give it to ‘Samu when he comes back. As much as I like ya Sunarin I don’t wanna receive a kiss from ya.”

Suna swipes at him which Atsumu jovially dodges. “How do you know that?”

“It was just a peck but why are ya so red?” Atsumu leers. “Did the forest spare me the details out of kindness since you did something else?”

“The forest listens to us?” Suna looks around, squinting at the tall trees. “Did you ask the trees to spy?”

Atsumu leads the way as the branches pull away to lead them through the forest. “Nah, the forest is a part of the mountain and we’re in sync with the mountain. Ya know, with the whole kitsune thing?”

“So, it knows everything that happens in the forest?” 

“Yep,” Atsumu says, popping the last syllable. He speaks strangely in contrast to his brother. Unrestrained and in the dialect alike to the villagers. “It’s our home and the mountain recognizes us as the owners. It’s our job to watch over it and if anythin’ messes it up we fix it. If anythin’ happens to it we feel it and if we’re sick or somethin’ the mountain bears the brunt too.”

“Then, it can tell me the answer?”

Atsumu spares him a glance. “It can. But it won’t. The mountain serves Osamu and me only. It wouldn’t spare help to just any human. Even Omi can’t make it listen to a single demand.”

Omi? “You mean Sakusa-san?”

Atsumu repeats the name. “I call Omi by his nickname so much I forgot he has an _actual_ proper name. ‘M surprised he lets you in his house. That guy’s really prickly when it comes to his space.”

“He insisted I stay with him,” Suna says. “Something about me being vulnerable to nonhuman beings?”

The kitsune barks out a laugh. “Well, he ain’t wrong. Sunarin, yer heart’s a real piece of treasure did ya know? It’s so rare everyone wants a taste of it. It’s a miracle Omi hasn’t put a whole lock on ya.”

“I’m assuming you meant my literal heart and not my graciousness,” Suna says wryly. “Are the flowers truly that rare?”

“It’s a tasty treat that comes once in a lifetime,” Atsumu looks back at him, canines glinting. “Not many hearts used to burn after all.”

Suna stops in his tracks. “What?”

“Ah, did I say too much?” Atsumu does not look regretful. He shrugs and carries on walking. “Eh, who cares. It might help stupid ‘Samu in the end.”

Atsumu keeps on walking, chattering about anything and everything. Suna stays silent next to him, thinking about the new riddles the kitsune has presented him.

* * *

On the other side of the mountain, Osamu stares unimpressed at Sakusa. The shaman had trapped him in a ring made of horse’s blood. The forest has whispered to his ear that Suna had fallen during his trek up the mountain. He had rushed as fast as he could, Osamu’s concern clouded his senses and resulted in him stepping willingly inside the trap.

The mountain never lies to him. “I take it Atsumu is in this scheme, too?”

Sakusa unscrews a bottle of sake. “He did not refuse.”

“Of course he doesn’t.” Osamu takes a seat on the ground. This will take a while. “Your concern for Rintarou is quite baffling. I’m surprised Atsumu has not voiced arguments yet.”

“Suna was not meant to deal with you,” Sakusa says, spilling the sake on the blood ring. Osamu watches him from the corner of his eye as he walks around in a circle. “Your hunger is quite alarming. Have I not sent many people enough to satisfy your bottomless stomach? Why Suna?”

Osamu leans his head on a propped arm. “Is it any business of yours on who I consume? Your overwhelming concern will cause problems for me, Sakusa. Atsumu might be lenient but I am not. Not to you anyway.”

Sakusa stares down at him. “You and I both know you can’t consume me. Not only because of Atsumu’s promise but because a drop of my blood would extinguish your fire.”

The grin that spreads on Osamu’s lips is lazy but Sakusa can tell he’s treading a dangerous line. “Hm. Atsumu asked you for help but did not tell you what for. How interesting.”

“If I had known you would be this nefarious I wouldn’t have offered my help.”

“Atsumu has already promised you Suna’s safety in my company, why are you still doubtful?” Osamu asks. 

“Your actions towards Suna is.” Sakusa’s face goes through several emotions. “Strange.”

“Your face clearly said you wanted to say a harsher word. I’m surprised you held back.”

“Would you rather I say my honest thoughts?”

“No, thank you. I appreciate your restraint.”

“You’ve never shown interest in the humans I sent you other than the intention of consummation,” Sakusa notes. “But with Suna, who came to the mountain with no ill-intent, you’re awfully fixated on him. You’re kind to humans in the way you make their visits as short as possible. You don’t play as much tricks on them as Atsumu does. Suna’s game… you’re drawing it out. Why?”

“As I’ve asked, why is it any business of yours on how I consume?”

It is a fair point but. “Is this because of your eventual return to the other side?”

Osamu looks away. “It is and it isn’t.”

“Your answer is as clear as a muddy river.”

“What about you?” Osamu asks. “What will you do after you have served the remaining days of compensation you assumed for your mother? Will you leave this village and finally return to your home?”

The Sakusa maiden had meddled in a kitsune’s game and was promptly punished to serve them for years until the return is once again possible. Sakusa, as the eldest child, stepped up to the role to spare his siblings. It has been ten years since he has served the kitsune twins.

“I asked first. My question should be answered first.”

The kitsune sighs. “My return to the other side is not possible. I am too weak to make the journey home.”

“How is that possible?” Sakusa demands. “I have sent numerous humans to fuel you. Were the wagers too small for what they feed you?”

“It is not that.” Osamu conjures a flame on his index finger. It burns for a few seconds before it quickly dies. “My heart, it is dying.”

* * *

The path this time leads them to a small spring contained by slippery rocks. The water is cool as Suna dips a hand in. Suna sees his reflection on the crystal clear water, vanishing as Atsumu skips a small stone across it. He watches the ripples for a while before looking around.

“The village is troubled with water supplies. How could that be when this exists?” Suna asks. “Did the villagers not know of its existence?”

Atsumu skips another rock. “Of course not. Human hands are dirty and it would be our failure if this spring is spoiled. It exists for the animals who live in this forest.”

“Then why did you show me this?”

“It’s your hint,” Atsumu says. He gestures to the water. “Take a look at the water. What do you notice, Sunarin?”

Suna leans over the edge to peer closer at the crystal water. He does not see anything amiss. He tells this to Atsumu who scoffs and tells him to look closer. After a whole minute of deep staring Suna sighs in defeat and pulls back. He sees nothing but water.

“I told ya this was for animals,” Atsumu says. “What else other than water do springs provide?”

“Uh, fishes?”

The look Atsumu gives him makes Suna swallow back his answer. “No, Sunarin. A home.”

Suna peers back at the spring water devoid of anything. “There are no animals residing here.”

“Exactly, why do ya think that is?”

“They don’t like it anymore?”  
  


“Sunarin, ya gotta try harder. It’s not like fishes have feet and can move outta water. No, why is the water not a home anymore?”

The constant questions are making Suna’s forehead throb. “I don’t know.” 

Suna startles when Atsumu appears next to him, cupping water out of the spring. 

“It used to be clearer,” Atsumu mutters as he lets the water escape through his fingers. “But now it’s starting to rot.” The kitsune turns to Suna, “This water used to be as fresh as the rainwater from the gods’ blessing but now a drink of it can poison a small human. Isn’t it sad?” He looks back to the water, forlorn. “Something so beautiful is now destroyed.”

Atsumu’s golden eyes seem to glow as he leans close. “Hey, Sunarin. Can you really not remember?”

A sharp pain in his head makes Suna gasp in shock. He feels an urge to run away from Atsumu’s golden eyes. They remind him too much of something. _Something_. But what? What?

_Can you really not remember?_

Suna has heard of it before. Somewhere in his youth, someone had asked him the same question. But who and why does Atsumu’s voice sound wrong as they say those words?

“Ya should remember before it’s too late, Sunarin.” Atsumu’s voice washes over him like molasses. “Before ya lose again.”

The pain doubles and Suna follows the urge to run away. He pushes Atsumu away and turns. Atsumu reaches forward to catch him, eyes wide in terror as Suna falls backward into the water.

“ _SUNA!”_

* * *

_Are you not afraid of me?_

Curious grey eyes peer close. A young boy’s body which seems to glow amidst the dark forest. 

_How strange._

Small hands, a child's curious inspection of a colorful chalk. Grey walls brought to life with silly scribbles of fairy tales and adventures of the day.

_Your knife could be your claws._ A tinkling laugh. _Though your precision needs work._

A trunk of a tree with scratches from a dull knife. A hand guiding the knife to create scratches that eventually formed a small head of an animal.

_Those sky flowers you speak of... I would like to see them someday with you. Will you hold my hand when we do?_

The same hand but it is clear they are now older. The hand is held out with the palm up, hesitant. Soon, a paler hand clasps it tightly. It’s warm.

_I should not interfere with fate but…_ A warmth in his chest. So, so warm it feels almost as if it’s burning him alive. The sky is dark and rain blurs his vision. He weakly turns his head to see mud-stained hands pushed to his chest. 

_But if I don’t interfere with fate, I will lose you._

  
  


Opening his eyes felt like a chore. Suna feels as if weights pressed down his eyelids as he opened them even just a fraction. His whole body feels as if he was doused in cold and hot water all at once. The desert seems to have replaced his throat as he struggles to call out for someone, anyone.

He feels the floorboards creak next to him. He turns his head to see Sakusa sitting next to him, wringing out a washcloth. Suna heaves a sigh as the washcloth is set down firmly on his forehead. The cold gives his body some balance.

“Don’t attempt to talk,” Sakusa instructs, wringing out another washcloth to put on his chest. “Your fever is so high it’s almost near fatal. Just rest for now, Suna. You’ll get better in no time.”

“‘Samu…” Suna’s tongue sticks to his mouth. “Need’to… see…”

“It’s no use seeing him if you’re this sick,” Sakusa says, “rest. I’ll handle the wager with Osamu.”

Suna tries to call out to him but the darkness pulls him back in.

* * *

_Can you not really remember?_

A still heart replaced by a burst of flame.

_Can you really not remember?_

Flowers growing out of the dead fire, urgent to return home.

_Can you not really remember?_

Suna wakes up.

* * *

On the sixth day, Suna did not go to the mountain.

Instead, he locks himself up in his room with his tools and the wooden figure. He stumbles out of the futon and throws away the washcloths Sakusa had put on him. The jewel pouch is ransacked for a specific pair of gems. Knives and metal are sharpened until they can be mistaken for claws.

Sakusa knocks on his door but Suna does not answer. As if driven by madness, he carves and carves without rest. Trays of food outside his door remain untouched. Metal digs into wood until it resembles an unmistakable figure.

The sixth day bleeds into the seventh day with the wooden figure completed in Suna’s shaking hands, memories returning in a floodgate.

* * *

_He’s here_.

Osamu rushes through the forest as the sun rises from its sleep. The sun’s rays filter through the thick foliage as the trees part for Osamu. The mountain tells him where Suna awaits him. He picks up speed; Suna should have no knowledge of the path to the last place.

The fallen leaves crunch underneath his sandals. Osamu stares at Suna’s back, his kimono clearly his sleepwear. He shouldn’t be here, he was sick.

“Rintarou?” Osamu calls out, slowly stepping closer. “Rintarou, have you already recovered? ‘Tsumu said you fell in the spring yesterday and came out with a high fever. Should you be here? Sakusa said-”

“I did not give you my answer yesterday,” Suna says. His tone is blank and Osamu tenses at how unfamiliar it sounds. “I was otherwise preoccupied.”

Osamu pauses in his steps. He folds his hands behind him to prevent himself from reaching out. “How did you find this place? Did ‘Tsumu tell you?”

“Why would I need his directions when I am perfectly capable of finding it myself?”

His stomach plummets. He forces out a chuckle. “I see. Well then, Rintarou, let me hear it.”

“It’s you. The one who changed is you.”

* * *

“I can’t let you enter,” Atsumu says, saccharine voice gone.

The kitsune blocks the shaman, the branches reaching close together to form a barricade behind him. A harsh line replaces his playful grin. His golden eyes are muted as he stares impassively at Sakusa.

Sakusa huffs, having rushed up the mountain when he realized Suna had escaped. “G-Get out of my way Atsumu. Suna- He’s sick-”

“He’s fine,” Atsumu says. “He’s with ‘Samu now.”

“That doesn’t make me feel at ease, at all. Let me through before Osamu can-”

“Kiyoomi.” A warning is shown by the glinting canines. “You know better than to meddle in a kitsune’s game.”

Sakusa flinches at the reminder. He worries his lips. “It’s- But this is.”

“It’s ‘cause it’s Sunarin, right?” Atsumu asks, all-knowing as Sakusa meets his eye. “He always did have that pull on people. He keeps so much to himself lookin’ all composed when he breaks ya kinda wanna see more. ‘Samu’s like that too, ya know?”

* * *

Disappointment tries to pull the smile on Osamu’s lips down. He steps closer, hands ready on his sides. “Almost, but you’re wrong. I’m sorry to say Rintarou, you lost the wager.”

_Like last time. And the last time before that._

“Is that so?” Suna hums, fiddling with something in his hands. Osamu’s sharp ears hear scrapes against wood. “I should have been more specific then.”

“Regretting is of no use, Rintarou.”

“Regret? I have none. How could I, when I still haven’t used my last guess?”

* * *

Sakusa stares at Atsumu. “What are you talking about?”

“Omi, ya ever wonder how we die?” Atsumu asks, flicking a finger to produce a small fire. The fire reflects clearly in his golden irises. “A creature made of eternal fire who burns for thousands of years. Can ya guess how you can extinguish that?”

“Isn’t the answer obviously water?” Sakusa retorts. He has no time for this.

Atsumu clicks his tongue. “Nope. There’s no way to kill it unless the kitsune themselves decide to freely give away their fire. Then do ya know what happens to the fire they give away? It becomes earth again ‘cause we’re creatures of nature and it’s only right to serve its purpose one more time.”

* * *

“A few years ago, I started having memory lapses,” Suna says, fiddling with the wooden figure in his hands. “I thought nothing of it, even when I found myself in my studio, a chisel in hand. I thought it was just like the other memory lapses when I was younger. But then I had dreams after I fell to the spring.”

Suna tosses the wooden figure to Osamu who clumsily catches it. Osamu has no heart but if he did, would it be beating a mile per hour? The grey gems stare back at him from the fox’s face, fur grey and tail tipped white. He distantly remembers a younger Suna promising him a wooden figure.

“My final guess, Osamu. Is the change of this forest caused by your heart? No, more accurately, is the change of the forest caused by the lack of a heart?”

* * *

“A kitsune can live as long as their fire burns,” Atsumu says. “Take away the fire and their body is no more than a husk.”

“Atsumu,” Sakusa grabs him by the front of his kimono, desperate, “Atsumu, don’t tell me. The fire you asked me to make for you each season-”

* * *

Suna lays a hand over his heart, over the garden that threatens to spill out of him. “This is your heart isn’t it? No, this is a part of your fire, your core. And you’ve given it to me every time we had a game. Tell me Osamu, do you have any left?”

“You’ve always had a soft heart, Rintarou,” Osamu says, avoiding his gaze, “shouldn’t you be more concerned if your guess is right?”

“I should’ve died that night. I should’ve died during the landslide incident fifteen years ago. So then why…? Osamu, you know any change made to fate will have consequences. They will strike you down.”

Osamu smiles wryly. “They don’t need to. I’m already serving my punishment.” He finally looks up as Suna moves to stand in front of him, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. Osamu closes his eyes, content. “I’ve missed your touch.”

“Idiot, you could have asked for it all this time,” Suna says, voice soft. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why are you planning to give me your heart again? Do you even have left?”

“Does it matter if I have none left?”

Suna purses his lips and pinches Osamu’s cheeks. Osamu grimaces but lets him. This close, Suna notices the tiny details that evaded him. The slow, weak breathing of Osamu, the muted silver eyes that used to shine brighter than the full moon, and the paleness that is unnatural even for a creature that is inhuman. He was so caught up in his own problem that he did not notice the changes in Osamu.

Osamu takes a steadying breath before stepping back. “I need to take your memories, Rin. I’m sorry.”

Suna grabs his arm to stop him. “No, let me keep them. And don’t give me your fire either.”

“You’ll only ache if you remember me,” Osamu objects weakly, “and if I don’t fix your heart you’ll die. I can’t have that Rin, I can’t watch you die.”

_Not again. Not in front of me again._

“Then I’ll leave,” Suna says, lacing their hands together and stepping closer to lean their foreheads together, “I’ll leave with Sakusa-san to the capital. But let me keep memories of you; I don’t ever want to forget you. It hurts too much, Osamu. I can’t forgive myself if I have to wake up and remember I forgot you.”

Osamu leans in to Suna’s touch as he wipes his tears away. “Rin, _please_.”

Suna kisses him, softly, before pressing in harder. He stops only to let the air back in his lungs. He wonders if the embers in his heart are coming back to life; his heart feels as if it’s on fire. 

“I’ll come back for you,” Suna promises against his lips. He closes his eyes. “I’ll find you again and I’ll come back for you. Then, I’ll spend more than a week with you. But before I leave, will you give me a kiss?”

Osamu’s kiss feels like a goodbye and a promise.

* * *

“That stupid brother of mine,” Atsumu says, “gave his heart each time Sunarin comes back. He always erased his memory, makin’ sure Suna doesn’t feel even a bit guilty-” he strains his ear and sighs. “Seems like Sunarin finally caught on. He’s too late, though.”

Sakusa releases his tight hold on his kimono, arms falling limp at his sides. “Atsumu, tell me- Tell me this is a joke. What do you mean Suna’s too late? What does- What will happen to Osamu?”

Atsumu fixes his kimono, the harsh lines of his face smoothing out. “I’m pretty sure ya already know, Omi. There’s no use tryin’ to deny it. It’s been ‘Samu’s decision and we can’t do anythin’. They have to owe up to their decisions now.”

“But this is-” Sakusa feels like crying. He feels his heart split as he heaves a breath. “This is not- This is just unfair.”

Atsumu pats him on the shoulder. “Ya always were a softie, Omi. Don’t worry though, ‘m sure it’ll turn out fine. Maybe not in this life but in another one. They’re both stubborn idiots after all.” He turns around. “Oh look, it’s ‘Samu. Well, how did it go?”

The branches part to let Osamu through, face impassive as he looks at the shaman and his brother. He looks back as the branches close behind him again. He listens to the whispers of the trees before turning to Sakusa.

“Rintarou will go with you back to the capital,” Osamu tells Sakusa. “I want your family to help him establish a life there until his death. You may be released from your servitude after he dies of natural cause.”

Sakusa wants to object before taking in Osamu’s grave eyes. Resigned, he nods. “The Sakusa family promises to take care of Suna Rintarou. What about you? What will happen to you?”

Osamu gives him a small smile. “I’ll be waiting until he fulfills his promise.”

The shaman sighs. “You kitsunes and your crazy characters.”

“I think ya mean romantic, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says, leaning on Osamu’s shoulder with his elbow. “Isn’t that right, ‘Samu?”

“Yeah, maybe Sakusa-san doesn’t know what romantic means ‘Tsumu,” Osamu adds before smirking. “Maybe if you show it to him he’ll understand.”

Sakusa pushes down the urge to throttle the two leering kitsunes. He points a vulgar gesture at them before leaving. Suna is already at the base of the mountain. He has to hurry if they want to leave as soon as possible.

Atsumu watches the branches close behind Sakusa. He takes a deep breath before patting Osamu’s back. 

“Was it worth it?” Atsumu asks, voice low. 

Osamu smiles, genuinely, much to his surprise. “Of course. It’s not our end after all.”

* * *

Sakusa helps Suna with his luggage. There are only tools and his meager set of clothes. The shaman wonders if Suna ever had anything else in the village other than his connection to the kitsune.

“The two of you,” Sakusa falters as Suna turns to him. The caravan starts to move. “The two of you, will you-”

There are a thousand questions at the end of Sakusa’s tongue but Suna seems to know which one is the most important.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Suna says after patiently waiting for Sakusa to choose his question. “We’ll find each other again in another life. We’ll be fine. We promised after all.”

The sun sets down over the horizon. In the mountain, the forest closes in on Osamu as his fire slows down until ashes litter his ribcage. He watches the sun lower until darkness arrives with his brother. In the caravan, Suna presses a hand over the garden in his ribs. He watches the sun lower with Sakusa. He wonders if he can watch the sunset with Osamu next time instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is me again (￣▽￣)ノ This is my first contribution to SunaOsa so I hope you enjoyed it. I mostly write SakuAtsu but I'm glad I tried writing this SunaOsa one. It was really fun  
> ⊂(￣▽￣)⊃
> 
> Also, I promise this has a good ending lololol


	2. Chapter 2

“And here is the house of the artisan family named Sakusa who was a favorite of the nobles,” the tour guide says, leading the group to the traditional house. They patiently wait for the group to finish taking pictures before continuing. “It is said their best works are made by an unknown man who the family seems to have taken into their care. There are no known records of him other than his works he left for the Sakusa family.”

A man with gold eyes and dyed blond hair nudges the masked man next to him. In his visitor’s pass reads  _ Miya Atsumu _ . “How come ya never told us yer family was so cool, Omi-kun? Hey, can we go to the pottery wheels later? Can we make some vases?”

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “I told you, this house is preserved. We can’t do anything that might alter it even a little bit. It’s a historical site, Miya.” He pauses before speaking as casually as he can, “We can go to a pottery studio in Tokyo. I live near to one.”

“Oh, really? That’s cool!” Atsumu looks back. “Hey, ‘Samu. Wanna come with us? You too Rin!”

Behind them is Atsumu’s twin, Miya Osamu, and his boyfriend, Suna Rintarou. Unlike his twin, Osamu kept his natural dark hair. His grey eyes take in Sakusa’s passive look before turning to his brother’s excited one. How clueless.

Suna answers for him. “We have a date. Go by yourselves.”

Atsumu huffs at their interlocked hands. “Gross. Fine, be lovey-dovey by yourselves! Can’t believe my own brother chose you over me.”

“Did ya hear that, Rin?” Osamu jeers. “Doesn’t that sound like a jealous, bitter man to ya?”

Suna nods as seriously as he can. “You’re right, Osamu. Should I stop holding your hand so your brother doesn’t feel his loneliness so much?”

Atsumu flips them a finger. “Fuck you guys.”

“Why, ya want me to set ya up?” Osamu asks.

Next to Atsumu, Sakusa’s eyes narrow the tiniest fraction in displeasure. 

“Nah, not interested,” Atsumu waves him away before turning back to the tour guide. He tugs Sakusa forward with him using his jacket sleeve. “Omi, let’s go. We’ll lose the tour guide if we stay back too much.”

Osamu and Suna follow after them at a slower pace. Suna hums in contemplation before leaning in close to Osamu.

“Should we tell them?” Suna asks as they watch Sakusa roll his eyes before telling Atsumu the history behind a sculpture. “Or should we let them figure it out themselves?”

Osamu shakes his head. “Nah. Everyone’s supposed to have a fresh start. Let’s let them figure it out themselves ‘cause I’m pretty sure they didn’t have their memories like us.” He pauses in front of a miniature shrine.

Suna watches him as he looks the shrine over, ghosting his fingers over the old miniature shrine. He doesn’t need to touch it to know how it feels. In his last life, he had made it with his own hands after all.

Osamu points at two wooden figures in front of the shrine. A figure of a fox with grey jewels for eyes and a figure of a human with narrowed eyes. “Oh look, ya made one for yerself?”

Suna nods before hooking his chin over Osamu’s shoulder. “Didn’t want mini you to feel alone.”

Osamu laughs before tugging him close. “Dumbass, that’s so cute. Why Rin, ya still think I feel alone?”

Suna looks at their intertwined hands and smiles. He drops a kiss on Osamu’s cheek. “Nah, I think we’re fine now.”

Osamu’s kiss feels like a reaffirmation of a promise and a hello to a new start. He squeezes his hands before relaxing. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re definitely fine now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say it would be fluff in the end HAHAHHA
> 
> Also if u wanna be TWT friends add me [@Dai_naning](https://twitter.com/dai_naning) 👉👈

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is me again (￣▽￣)ノ This is my first contribution to SunaOsa so I hope you enjoyed it. I mostly write SakuAtsu but I'm glad I tried writing this SunaOsa one. It was really fun   
> ⊂(￣▽￣)⊃
> 
> Also, I promise this has a good ending lololol


End file.
